All We Are (8th Sin Book 2) (2 page)

I open the door and sigh. I can breathe finally after sitting down in a stuffy club filled with smoke and sex.

I lean against the brick and consider my options. There really isn’t much I can do right now but go along and try to get an in—one way or another.

If I didn’t want to understand the story behind my mother I probably wouldn’t be here. I know I wouldn’t. But now that I have uncovered secrets I want to know more about her. I want to know why she chose to do the things that she did. I want to understand what lead her down the path that she went down and most importantly, I want to get answers for not only myself but her father—my grandfather.

The door opens behind me. Music floats out into the night and then fades away as fast as it came.

“Let me guess,” he says. He’s not on his phone anymore. “Savy couldn’t hang.”

It feels strange hearing him say my name.

“It’s really hot down there,” I tell him. And I don’t care if he believes me. It’s seems rather obvious he thinks that I am full of shit.

“Why don’t you tell me why you’re really hanging out here,” he leans against the brick, only inches away from me. He’s a lot taller than I am. And I like how small I feel when he next to me.

“Why are you so caught up on me lying?”

“Why are you so evasive?”

Wow I didn’t even think you knew a word like that.
“Forgive me if I don’t open up to every stranger I meet.”

“Forgiveness is bullshit,” he holds my gaze for a few seconds before looking back to the front. We both stand there staring out into the parking lot.

“A lot of things are bullshit.” I push off of the wall. I’m tired of this conversation. “Excuse me while I check on Sophie. I need to make sure your brother isn’t getting too handsy.”

“Word of advice, don’t get on his bad side,” he says before my hand gets to the doorknob. “You might not want to be honest about why you’re here, but I promise you Ike is way more of an asshole than I am.”

I look away. He’s trying to warn me. It’s making it hard to hate him when he is being nice. Or his
form
of it anyway. “I’ll be fine.”

I look back at him. “Why did you even bother to tell me about Ike?” I know I should be in there checking on Sophie but I guess I need to know.

“Because I’m fucking exhausted from last night and I don’t want anymore drama. Shit, why are you so needy and emotional?” He snaps. He runs a hand across his head, refusing to look at me.

I smirk. “I know when someone is trying to be helpful. Maybe I’m not the only one who needs to be truthful.” I raise an eyebrow and he raises one back. He shakes his head and goes for the door. He let’s me go first and follows me back inside.

He leans down, until his lips are inches away from my ear. “As soon as you want to be honest I’ll help you out.”

I turn my head, his blue eyes pinned to mine and inches away from my face. And I feel totally naked and on display when he is so close to me.

I don’t say anything. I just stare back not backing down from the little game going on between us. Sooner or later one of us has to break. And I am determined not to be the one to do so first.

I take the spot on the couch, and Nash follows suit. Only this time he is even cockier. His leg presses into mine. It’s muscular and powerful and suddenly I want to place my hand on it so I can really understand how it feels.

“Where did Sophie go?” I search the entire place for signs of my friend.

And Ike is nowhere to be found either. I jump up. “I’m going to check the bathroom.”

Nash shrugs and leaves me to panic all by myself. And I understand because he has no ties to me. He doesn’t owe me anything. We aren’t friends and at this point I don’t think we ever will be.

After checking the bathroom and asking several groups of people if they saw a dainty blonde wearing a long purple skirt, I go back to the couch.

“No luck?” He stands up, we stand there next to each other watching chaos swirl all around and I don’t know what to say or do.

I don’t even have time to feel bad. Nash pokes me in the arm bringing me back to my senses. “Right there on the bar.”

“Oh my god,” I say. “Where are her clothes?”

Twelve years earlier

I carefully sit my baby doll down on the bed and dance across my room. Jenna, the girl from next door is over and she too enjoys playing house and living in our imagination all day long.

I pick up one of my mother’s brushes and concentrate on brushing my hair in the mirror. “I wish I had blue eyes like my mom’s eyes.”

Jenna nods. She has the loveliest shade of blue and I have always been jealous of them.

“I wish I had her hair.” I smooth my own dull brown hair down and spin around just in time to see an older man standing in the hallway looking at me. His eyes cloud over with sadness and even though I am only ten I feel his pain. It bothers me, so I look away.

I hear my father talking to him in the other room and things go from normal to angry.

Jenna touches my arm. “Let’s go outside okay?”

I nod, because I am not used to hearing the words that I am hearing. My parents don’t talk like this.

We both instinctively look toward the source of the noise as we round the banister to go downstairs. My heart sinks in my chest when I see the look on my father’s face. He’s angry.

I follow Jenna down the staircase and we go out the front door.

And right on the porch steps is a little boy with two action figures. He looks up when we go down the stairs. Jenna tosses me the ball but I would much rather figure out why this strange kid is sitting on my front porch.

“Who are you?” I ask him.

He doesn’t look like he wants to say anything. And he doesn’t, he just shrugs and goes back to the action figures in his hands. And I don’t ask him anything else, like the older man he’s sad too.

Jackson wakes me up by planting a kiss on my forehead.

Normally this would be the best thing to happen to me all day but today I feel hideous. I’m hung over and I barely remember how I got back to his place.

I roll over on the bed and watch him go about the room. He slips his dress shirt off the hanger. “Afternoon.”

I shoot up in bed holding my head in my hands as pain radiate both of my temples. “Why aren’t you at work?”

“I took the morning off to help you recuperate after the night the two of you had,” he tells me. “And believe me it wasn’t the way I wanted to spend the night with you.”

I avoid his gorgeous blue eyes because I know what he is thinking. I don’t blame him for thinking it. I’ve been extremely stupid lately. I think I might even call it obsessed.

“Did you find what you were looking for?” He raises an eyebrow, buttoning his shirt.

I stand up and catch a glimpse of myself in Jackson’s mirror. I’m wearing one of his t-shirts. “Not yet. But the whole things wasn’t for nothing.” I met a potential in—Nash.

“Well then I am glad you came back in one piece.” He collects his keys and wallet from his dresser. “Anything I can help with?”

“Is there anything you can find out about a guy named Nash?”

Jackson has the connections to find out anything about anyone. He shrugs. “I can see what I can do. No last name?”

I shake my head and wrap my arms around his neck. I push up on my tiptoes and kiss him on the lips. And normally this would be when the butterflies started doing their little dance in my stomach but not today, because I have too many other things on my mind.

He moves my hair, it’s a mess and really could use a brush and kisses me on the neck. And then he traces a finger across my cheek until he has my chin in his grasp. “I don’t want to see anything bad happen to you.”

“I know you don’t,” I touch his face, and move my finger across his stubble. I like him even more on the days he doesn’t have the time to shave. Usually he is clean-shaven. “But I need to do this. I need to figure out what happened to her.”

***

“She was murdered, what more do you want to know?” Ryker says. He’s only in town for the day but I promised him that I would take time to meet up with him because it’s been a long time. We barely see much of each other anymore.

“I want to know why. I want to understand her,” I sigh. “I know nothing about her and she was my mother.”

He takes a bite out of his burger and then returns it to his plate and then he looks at me. “Your mother is the woman who raised you. Not the woman who got wrapped up in the wrong crowd.”

He doesn’t get it. And I understand. He doesn’t have to worry about his past or any kinds of what ifs because he knows who his parents are. I don’t. And I need to. Because if I don’t ever find out about my mother I have this really bad feeling that nothing in my life will ever feel right again.

“Why don’t we talk about something else?” Anything would be better than hearing Ryker doubt my every thought on finding out about my life. He is just as protective as Jackson, the only difference; one of them is gone for months at a time and can only bother me via text most days.

He leans back in his seat. He’s wearing the famous blue shirt that makes his eyes that much more irresistible. It makes him look sweet and boy next door. Anything he wears makes me like him even more.

“We can talk about this marriage proposal you told me about over the phone.” He raises an eyebrow and we hold each other’s knowing gazes. He knows marriage is not something I am ready for and I know that he hates me for telling him at all.

“Stop. I already felt bad for saying anything to you at all. But I wanted to be honest.”

“You were honest all right.”

I make a face at him. “I didn’t say yes. And he understands. He said he just wanted to put it out there.”

“That guy is an idiot.” He lifts his sandwich back up. “And I guess so am I because I keep coming back to town over and over again just to see you.”

I grin because he is grinning. It’s contagious. He’s contagious and the reason I am still putting up with him at all. He’s someone I just can’t walk away from. He’s my best friend.

I dig my phone out of my purse when it rings and I answer it. Ryker gives me the look. He hates when I am on the phone with Jackson when I am supposed to be spending time with him.

“Hey, Jackson.”

“Hey beautiful. I got some information for you.” I can hear all sorts of chaos going on in the background, which tells me he is busy, so I cut straight to the point instead of flirting around with him like I usually do when he calls me.

“So, let me have it.” I chew at my nail watching Ryker work on his plate of French fries.

“Nash Ellis.” He clears his throat and leaves me hanging long enough to read over the paper. “Son of Anders Ellis. The man the police tried so very hard to pin your mother’s murder on to no avail.”

I’m worried. This is not something I want to hear.

“This guy you and Sophie were partying with last night is bad news. Not only has he bounced around most of his life from one family member to another, he was in jail countless times for assault among various other charges that we don’t need to be talking about.”

I don’t say anything.

“Are you still there?”

“Yes.” I snap out of it. “Thank you for this. What about Ike, did you get anything on him?”

“Well, I wasn’t looking for any Ike’s but I’m sure I can have someone pull something up.”

I shake my head. “Don’t bother. I’m pretty sure his track record is one I don’t want to know about.”

“You might want to tell Sophie that. Because when I picked the two of you up last night she was gushing over someone I thought was named Mike.”

I slap my forehead and tell him I will see him sometime tonight if he’s lucky. He warns me to stay away from all things 8
th
sin but I tell him that’s not going to happen.

Ryker chucks a French frie at my head. “I’m leaving in an hour. Let’s get out of here and do something worthwhile before we say goodbye.”

I let him pay the bill and follow him out to his car. When we are both in his car he leans over and kisses me. I didn’t see it coming and it’s been some time since we’ve locked lips. He touches my chin and forces me to look at him. “If there is one thing that I know.”

I nod waiting for him to tell me what the one thing is.

“It’s that your father would lose his shit if he knew what you were trying to do. And after all he did to keep you safe this is the last thing he would want you getting involved in.”

He starts the car and takes my hand in his. And he doesn’t have to say anything else because I know this is his way of telling me that he is worried about me.

It’s the start to a new week—Monday.

And I am sitting in Jackson’s office going over paperwork. For being such a businessman he is sure disorganized. And if it weren’t for me, the man would never find anything.

I go back and forth between filing documents into his filing cabinet and texting Sophie about plans for the weekend.

Jackson is in a meeting for some new property that just came available and he is looking to turn it into something that he has yet to tell me about. He says it’s a secret.

I probably would pry it out of him any other day but today I am more focused on the task at hand because the sooner I get my work done, I can go home and think of a new strategy to get closer to the 8
th
sin.

Jackson’s phone rings and I hit number one and put it on speaker.

“Yes?”

“Ms. Arnold.”

“Hi, Wendy.” Wendy is a receptionist. She’s a little bit older than me and very quiet, but she works hard and always has a smile on her face.

“Jackson called and asked if you could run some papers over to the old factory on Birch. The owner is ready to sign the paperwork, he just wants to look over a few things.”

Just what I want to be doing, dealing with people that are indecisive about whether or not they want to let Jackson tear down their property to make whatever he sees fit.

“Are they there now?” I gather up the files and open the drawer putting them away.

“He said they would be there in twenty minutes.”

I sigh. “I’m on my way. Tell him not to worry.” I gather my keys and purse and turn off the light in his office. I can’t leave the owners waiting.

***

I stop the car and prepare myself for my encounter with whoever is behind this latest deal Jackson is a part of. I pocket my keys and step out into the parking lot. Several cars with tinted windows are parked on one side and when I follow the path up to the old building my stomach does a flip.

There on the other side of the cars are three crotch rockets. With the 8
th
sin emblem adorning the sides in black and gold. I swallow down my anxiety and keep moving to the doors of the giant building.

I knock loudly and wait. When nobody answers I pull the handle and scream when a monstrous animal with fur and claws jumps on me and drops me to the ground.

“Charger!” Someone scolds the dog from someplace off in the distance.

I hold my breath, letting the dog sniff me and nudge me. He circles around me like a demon about to devour his supper.

“Charger rest,” a voice calls out again. The dog remarkably does just as he is told and drops to the ground.

I still don’t move even though I know that I dropped the paperwork. I don’t trust this dog. I don’t trust anything that is going on.

“Did you knock?”

I didn’t expect to be looking at him again. But there is he is standing over me. And I still haven’t budged. I draw up my legs and look up at him. “Yes, I did knock.”

He extends a hand. And reluctantly I weigh my options as he glares down at me like he is being burdened. He narrows his eyes on me. “Are you going to let me help you up?”

I sigh, giving in. With one quick yank he gets me to my feet and I briefly am pressed against the front of him. I hate that I now know that underneath his black t-shirt is probably a glorious set of abs. He’s solid and I hate that I appreciate it.

“I’m beginning to think you are stalking me.” He walks to the door and shuts it locking me inside with him and whoever else is in this dark cold hellhole.

I gather the file and paperwork off of the floor and when I look back up his eyes are still pinned on me. “I work for Jackson. I brought the paperwork over about the sale of this
lovely
building.”

I dust off the papers. “All I need is a few signatures and I can leave.”

He lifts a box from the shadows and drops it by the door. “We were just getting a few things.”

I study my surroundings trying to stay out of his way. “The rest of your meth lab?” I know being a smartass is probably not the best thing to be doing right now but I can’t help it.

And I hate myself when he stops what he is doing and glares at me. His eyes boring holes into me. I think he might want to kill me now. I raise an eyebrow. “Sometimes I say the wrong thing at the wrong time.”

He goes back to what he is doing and I get a little closer. “But really, what’s this place for?” I try to peek in the box but he just drops another one on top of it.

“Nothing you want to know about,” he says. He drops another box and I can’t help myself. My eyes gravitate to his rear end and I swallow—hard.

“Were you going to get whoever can sign this so I can leave?”

He lifts the front of his t-shirt revealing just what I expected, a perfect body. Along with part of a tattoo that ends before it can ruin the perfect set of abs.

If he weren’t so angry I would call him gorgeous. But his foul mood makes it hard to see past.

“I’m whoever.”

“You own this place?” I can’t hold back the surprise in my voice. He doesn’t look like the type of guy to own anything other than brass knuckles and a gun collection maybe.

He nods. “Is that surprising?”

I hold out the file. “All I need is three signatures.”

He takes the files keeping his eyes on me. “Jackson agreed to our terms am I right?”

I open my mouth to inform him that I have no clue but I know that will just make him even angrier. “Of course. You can read over the paperwork if you like.”

He shakes his head. “I take people by their word.” He signs the first paper. “And as for this place. It was my fathers. He passed it down to me and I don’t want anything to do with it anymore.”

He’s giving me way more than I expected. “How come?”

We study each other carefully. He takes in a breath and flips the paper ignoring me just like I ignored him. “How soon before I get the money?”

“Jackson is usually really fast about transactions. I’ll make sure he knows you are expecting it.”

Something crashes behind us and he looks away from me allowing me to pull in some air. I haven’t breathed since his hands were on the contract. I push some hair behind my ear and touch my earring feeling nervous still.

“Nash, we have a problem up here.” Someone shouts. I swear I hear a saw of sorts and hammers. I don’t know what is happening but I want to leave as soon as possible.

He scrawls his final signature and hands back the papers.

He plows a hand across his head and sighs. He’s bothered and maybe even worried. “Is that everything?”

I nod, watching him walk away. He takes the stairs two at a time and when he is gone I go over to the box. I lift the lid and shine my phone’s flashlight into the box. It’s full of newspapers and mail. Even what looks to be court documents?

I sift a little further in the box and find a handful of old pictures. It’s obvious they are older. But the resemblance to Nash is very obvious. I move on to the next one and lose my breath. It’s her—my mother.

There she is in all her glory hanging on to this man that I am very certain is Nash’s father. She doesn’t look unhappy, if I wanted to make a guess, I would even say she looked happy to be in his arms, surrounded by bikes and old classic cars.